


fireworks (but also not)

by indemnis



Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Crushes, Developing Relationship, M/M, Making Out, side hyungki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 19:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indemnis/pseuds/indemnis
Summary: When asked what kind of existence Hyunwoo is in his life, Hoseok doesn't know how to explain the way Hyunwoo makes him burst into flames and puts it out at the same time.





	fireworks (but also not)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevimxmb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevimxmb/gifts).



> for [Sevim](https://twitter.com/sevimxmb).

Hyunwoo is the kind of person Hoseok would imagine came from a page of a comic book. A romantic novel. Something like an illusion, throwing realism off into spaces he didn’t know existed.

But Hyunwoo is also the kind of person Hoseok knows is concrete, solid, a touchable, _tangible_ human, existence breathed and ingrained into every molecule of his being.

If he wasn’t real, he wouldn’t prove to be the sturdiest foundation Hoseok has ever had, the anchor that keeps him from floating away.

But if he was real… it seemed improbable that Hoseok had finally found that person for him. Seemed unlikely that Hyunwoo was here, his eyes thinning into lines when he smiles, the ends of his full lips pulling up, and just _being_. Being Hyunwoo. Being the immaculate person that he is, the guy who always seemed to know what to do and what to say, who would goof around but within boundaries. A man capable of depth and thought, incredibly generous with his compliments and wisdom. It just seemed so difficult to believe that Hyunwoo was here, being the person that he is.

(Hoseok doesn’t use the word ‘perfect’ because life has taught him that nobody is, but he thinks if there was a word closest to ‘perfection’, Hyunwoo would be the human embodiment of that word.)

What he cannot wrap his head around is also how Hyunwoo exists around here, within his orbit, within his sphere of being, tolerating and putting up with him.

Being around Hyunwoo simultaneously feels like the spark of a firework, of vibrancy and colour bursting in his eyes, filling him with an elation unparalleled to any other, but it also feels like the soft embrace, the comfort of a boring and lazy afternoon lying on bean bags watching mindless comedies on the telly.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Hyunwoo says quietly, slipping into the seat next to Hoseok, elbows on the table as he asks for a coffee.

His side profile is sharp, accurate, and he’s so painfully handsome, in a way that makes Hoseok want to curl into himself and stare at him all day. (Hoseok does a lot of that around him; he’s trying to quit the habit.)

“You’d go bankrupt if you paid me a penny for each of my thoughts,” Hoseok laughs, and Hyunwoo chuckles in return. They’re both aware of how sometimes thoughts and ideas in Hoseok’s mind race to the front in bombardment, paralysing his general ability to do other things since he’s so busy just _thinking_.

(Hyunwoo is more often than not the one who sits with him and holds his hand as they wait for worry to fade from the recesses of his consciousness.)

(Hoseok doesn’t tell Hyunwoo that he’d also have every penny in his pockets if they had to count the number of times Hyunwoo has hijacked Hoseok’s train of thought.)

But things are easy. Like a mug of hot chocolate in hand, sweet and warm and makes him so unbelievably happy.

They can even joke about it now. Hoseok thinks he’s getting better, and Hyunwoo is more than happy to take most of the credit.

“Any plans for Saturday?” Hyunwoo asks, sipping on his black coffee, taking small glances in Hoseok’s direction.

The black-haired man shakes his head. “Not much. I think Kihyun is preparing for his exhibition so I might pop over and be nosy.”

Hyunwoo laughs. It’s deep and hearty and it’s music to Hoseok’s ears.

“Sounds like something you’d do,” he drawls, and Hoseok smacks him on the arm gently, grinning when Hyunwoo holds the spot where he’s just hit in mock injury.

“Do you want to tag along?” Hoseok asks, blinking a couple of times, and stares as Hyunwoo shrugs. (This habit. He really needs it gone.)

“Dunno. Minhyuk might want to play Winning, if he isn’t too busy playing Overwatch.” He rolls his eyes, and Hoseok smiles tight. He’s promised himself he wouldn’t do this.

His insecurity in himself as a person is not an excuse for him to paint Minhyuk as the bad guy. He’s Hyunwoo’s closest friend; surely Hyunwoo is allowed to meet other people outside of Hoseok.

His head dips as he stares at his half-eaten apple crumble and feels his appetite leave him.

“Hey.”

Hoseok looks up to see Hyunwoo holding his gaze with the softest eyes, and he feels his insides flip. The bottom of his stomach twists, and he has this burning urge to kiss him, to taste the bitterness of his coffee on his tongue, to run the tip of his tongue along his neat, beautiful teeth.

“You’re doing it again,” he says, and Hoseok looks — stares — at him (damn it, Hoseok).

“Doing what?”

Hyunwoo hikes up both his brows, unsure if Hoseok is putting up a show, or if he’s just genuinely unaware that he wears his feelings on his sleeve, and that it really doesn’t take much for Hyunwoo to read him from cover to back.

“Doing that thing where you’re thinking too hard.”

Hoseok lets the words sink in, and frowns a little, as if pondering the proper defence he has to offer, when Hyunwoo picks up his right hand that had been resting on the counter.

“Don’t. Try to relax. With me, at least. I’m good company, right?”

And Hoseok doesn’t know how to explain that he’s right, but he also is the weight pressed against his chest, that he is also like a small poke in his gut that keeps pushing itself in, tangling his insides and mangling them to bits.

He doesn’t know how to tell Hyunwoo that he feels both like a firework and the quietness after the fireworks, the cracking of the sparks still ringing in his ears, the happiness still bottled in him, only now peaceful and sated.

But Hyunwoo runs his thumb over Hoseok’s knuckles, and Hoseok sighs outwardly, into the spaces that Hyunwoo has reserved for just him, and he braces a smile.

And the smile he’s returned with is the brightness of a thousand fireworks.

*****

“Wait, so you guys aren’t dating?” Jooheon has his face in his palms as he looks lazily over to Hoseok while Kihyun flutters back and forth behind them, trying his best to position his pictures in the most aesthetically pleasing way.

Hoseok blushes at the accusation (statement?) and shakes his head. Hyungwon is trailing after Kihyun like a puppy, trying to convince his boyfriend that he needs to rest, that he’s been going at this for the past three hours and a 0.4 degree tilt of a frame can also be artistic.

“Why?” Jooheon asks, and Hoseok isn’t offended; it’s just the person Jooheon is, laying out truths the way they should be laid out.

He appreciates the frankness, but the sudden question makes him flustered.

“What do you mean _why_?”

The younger man shrugs. “I don’t know. Just seems like you would get together,” he says, his lips resting into a pout as he considers what he’s just said, and then, as an afterthought, “you guys look good together.”

Hoseok can’t see his own face now, but he imagines it’s bright red, and Jooheon is snickering under his breath, so it most probably definitely is.

“Just being honest, hyung, you know me,” Jooheon replies casually, like it’s not a big deal, like he didn’t just make Hoseok’s brain throw twenty visual imageries of them _dating_ to the front of his mind. He’s starting to appreciate this frankness a lot less now.

“You like him, don’t you?” Jooheon questions again, and Hoseok looks away, opts to watch Hyungwon force a bottle of mineral water on Kihyun and almost begging him to take a seat — _“You can’t keep working like that, baby, for fuck’s sake.”_

He doesn’t answer the question, but surely the dark flush spreading to his neck is evidence enough.

Jooheon sniggers once more, and Hoseok keeps his cool. It’s fine; he’s used to being teased by his younger friends. He’s a bit of a pushover, but also because they treat him well in other ways, so he can deal with their bullshit occasionally.

“Hoseok hyung has a crush~” Jooheon sings, and Hoseok kicks him in the knee, ignoring the younger man’s pleas to stop physically abusing him.

“You talk shit, you get hit,” Hoseok warns, pulling up his sleeves in a display of strength, but Jooheon knows better than anyone else that Hoseok is a massive marshmallow, and he’d die before he’d hurt his friends.

Jooheon attempts to wrestle Hoseok (keyword: attempts) and their arms and legs are entwined for a good few minutes before Hoseok pins Jooheon’s arm behind his back, and the brunette screams for him to stop.

It’s silent between the both of them, though the loving couple (loving is a subjective word) is still squabbling in the background, so close to wrenching each other’s necks off their torsos.

“Hey.”

Jooheon rests his head on Hoseok’s shoulder, and his black-haired hyung tries his best to stay as still as possible.

“Mmm?”

“You and Hyunwoo hyung. Do you think you’ll eventuate into anything?” Jooheon asks, and this time it isn’t teasing, just genuine curiosity, and Hoseok doesn’t even want to imagine the possibility of such a thing happening.

He’s experienced things like these more than once or twice, and the higher you build your castles, the more deadly the fall.

He shakes his head, his shoulders still steady, and Jooheon barely even budges from his movement.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to.”

“To eventuate?” Jooheon sounds confused.

“To _think_. Hyunwoo deserves better than me.”

Jooheon falls silent, then picks it up, because this is a conversation they’ve rehashed multiple times over the years, yet the idea is still such a foreign concept to Hoseok.

“You’re the best thing anyone could be deserving of,” Jooheon whispers, and Hoseok smiles, just a small, slight one, because he’s learning to love himself in the same way his friends love him.

“What about you?” Hoseok asks, looking over, the top of Jooheon’s light brown hair tickling his chin.

“What about me?” Jooheon questions, his voice growing flat, and Hoseok knows he’s treading on sensitive ground, but he shouldn’t be the only one sharing.

“Settling down. Are you keeping a lookout?” Hoseok’s voice is soft, encouraging, the kind that could never be judgemental, and Jooheon relaxes, his defences pulled down as he realises that Hoseok is without criticism, only concern.

“Maybe. Went on a few dates. They were nice, but we didn’t click. I’ll keep looking.”

Jooheon’s lips seal shut after that, and Hoseok doesn’t really know what to say. His whole body turns as he looks behind him, Hyungwon holding the smaller frame of Kihyun to his chest as he whispers something into his left ear.

Kihyun’s cheeks are a dark red, and Hoseok chuckles breathlessly. Jooheon follows, laboured.

“And him?”

Hoseok’s brows are raised, and Jooheon doesn’t need a neon sign to know what Hoseok is referring to.

“He’s good. I’m good. We’re good.” A few seconds later: “I think.”

Hoseok has to try his best to not break into laughter. “You think?”

Jooheon hums lightly, loosens the tension in his muscles, and nods, his cheek brushing against Hoseok’s neck. “Mmm. Yeah.”

“Jooheon. You had a crush on him for six years.”

Jooheon rolls his eyes. “Don’t _I_ know that.”

“How do you just… deal with this?” He gestures lightly to the couple’s public display of affection, Kihyun finally stopping his scampering around the hall as Hyungwon hugs him from behind, swaying them gently from side to side.

Jooheon moves away from Hoseok and sits back up straight, and the older man refuses to admit that the sudden lack of physical contact leaves him feeling a little empty.

“You just… do, I guess? He’s happy, and it’s okay, even if that happiness isn’t with me,” he says quietly.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Is the sky blue? Sure, of course it hurts,” his voice dips as he whispers, trying his best to conceal their conversation from anyone around them, though from the way Hyungwon is cradling Kihyun in his arms, the two might as well have been in a different universe altogether.  
“But have you seen him?” Jooheon asks, a hint of sadness in his voice, but he erases it quickly when he speaks again. “He’s happy. Hyungwon hyung makes him happy.”

Hoseok smiles bitter, shakes his head. “Don’t know how you do it, Joo.” He glances at the couple again, then back at Jooheon, who looks completely unaffected. “How are you even dealing with this so well? You like him.”

Jooheon’s shoulder rises, then falls. “ _Liked_. Everyone can move on, if only they tried. At least that’s what I think.”

Hoseok sighs, and wonders if he could ever move on from Hyunwoo.

That evening, he realises (and the realisation terrifies him) that it isn’t that he cannot, but that he never wants to move on from Hyunwoo.

Even if he had to live through this life without reciprocation, he doesn’t think he would want to let him go.

*****

When he next sees Hyunwoo, he realises just how smitten it is. It’s not a bad thing, per se, but for someone who so desperately doesn’t want to have scenarios of them doing stupidly romantic things together playing in his head, being head over heels in love with them seems like a horrible option.

“What’s up?” Hyunwoo slides in, and Hoseok sucks on his straw that’s sitting in a tall glass of banana milkshake.

“Hey. You look tired,” Hoseok says, and Hyunwoo smiles, the ends of his eyes drooping downwards, his arm pressed against Hoseok’s. The younger man freezes, his whole frame turning rigid as Hyunwoo sidles closer to him, oblivious to his racing heart, his blood pumping furiously through his veins.

“Yeah. Minhyuk is unbearably competitive when it comes to Winning. Don’t play with him. Ever.” Hyunwoo answers, sounding a little sulky, and Hoseok’s heart swells. He keeps his eyes on his shake, instead of the way Hyunwoo’s skin brushes against his own.

Hoseok laughs, because he doesn’t know what else to say, because while everything with Hyunwoo is so carefree and easy, Minhyuk’s name still leaves a bit of sour taste on the tip of his tongue, a taste he knows he shouldn’t have, because Minhyuk is so much fun and so lovely, but he can’t help it.

Hyunwoo makes him do a lot of things he cannot help, and honestly, the lack of control is driving him insane.

The brunette yawns, and Hoseok shifts to look at him, looks at Hyunwoo’s half-shaven moustache, a short stubble forming at his chin, his full, pinkish-red lips, and he caves into himself, something in him shattering.

 _How_ is he real? Real, existing, and right next to Hoseok?

“I want to nap,” Hyunwoo says lazily, his long lashes flitting above his eyebags, and Hoseok is screaming at himself.

“Then nap.” Hoseok means it in the most innocent way possible, in the way that he wants Hyunwoo to get ample of rest, _not_ in the way Hyunwoo regards it as some sort of an invitation to slouch onto all of Hoseok. He hums a reply as he leans his big bulky frame against Hoseok’s equally bulky one, and Hoseok’s ears are buzzing.

“What are you doing?” Hoseok tries to play it casual, nudges Hyunwoo in the rib as the older man just continues to melt into the gaps, stuck to Hoseok’s side like a piece of gum.

“Taking a nap.” Hyunwoo pulls his vowels, his words slurring together into all but two syllables, and even if Hoseok’s brain is running at full capacity, and his hands are basically shaking, he can’t help but worry for Hyunwoo.

The brunette looks vulnerable, resting his cheek against Hoseok’s shoulder blade, all mushed up. His lashes are long, and his breathing grows slow gradually, until it evolves into soft inhales and exhales.

Hoseok’s heart aches as he watches Hyunwoo sleep, watches his unblemished, tanned skin against his own fair smooth one. Watches his chest move up and down, his hands balled into half-formed fists. Watches as he relaxes completely beside Hoseok, sleeping soundly like a child, like he had no need for walls or defences around Hoseok.

And the idea that he is someone that Hyunwoo trusts with every bit of his unshielded self is both flattering and scary.

He, Shin Hoseok, bearer of someone else’s unguarded heart, when he can barely fend for himself?

But he doesn’t know how to deal with any of it, except to hold it softly in his palms, and willing to tire till the day he dies before he’d ever close them into a fist and crush Hyunwoo in the process.

*****

Hoseok likes parties. They’re a nice time for him to let loose, alcohol-infused punch in hand, music thumping loudly, his hips swaying gently from side to side.

That’s exactly what he’s doing at Changkyun’s party, a party that he threw spontaneously, because _“why do you need a reason to have fun?”_ was his reasoning.

And Hoseok needs to learn more from Changkyun. The man lives in the moment, is unapologetic in everything he does and is, and it sparks a small ball of fire and courage in Hoseok he didn’t know existed.

Jooheon is grooving against a stranger in the living room, and he looks like he’s having fun. Hoseok knows nothing about Anonymous being someone Jooheon would date in the long run, but at least his bed will be warm tonight.

From the way Jooheon is grinding his ass against the other’s boy’s crotch, it’s currently sitting at a possibility of 97%.

Hoseok wonders if there’s someone for him to dance with for a bit before he goes home and watches Netflix for the rest of the night, when he appears in a snapback, acid-washed jeans and a Tommy Hilfiger t-shirt, the biggest grin on his face.

“Why are you dressed up like a fuck boy?” Hoseok greets him first thing, and Hyunwoo rolls his eyes.

“What the hell does that even mean?” he asks, and while he knows what the word means, he doesn’t know which part of his outfit warrants the accusation.

“I don’t know, just,” Hoseok steps back and gestures lightly to his whole frame, looking at him from head to toe, biting his tongue as he tries his best to not comment on how good he looks. “You look like you’re about to be someone’s beautiful mistake for the night. The kind of person who’d leave them sleeping alone in their bed the next morning, the kind who’ll be like ‘lol ok’ whenever someone even briefly brings up their feelings.”

Hyunwoo raises his left brow. “You think I’m beautiful?”

He can’t help the snort that leaves his system. “That’s your takeaway from that?”

The man shrugs, his eyes forming a straight line. “Trying to focus on the positive.”

“You’re an idiot,” Hoseok comments casually, and Hyunwoo throws his arm over his shoulder and pulls him in, tucking him into his side, his chin coming into contact with Hoseok’s temple.

“Ah, but a beautiful idiot,” he interjects, and Hoseok punches him gently in his stomach.

And for a moment it’s nice. Warm. Good. Hyunwoo encapsulating him with his taller frame, his muscled arms coming around the black-haired man like a fence. Hoseok never thought himself to be the kind to fall for the physical aspects of a person, though Hyunwoo’s shoulders never looked wider than in this moment, and Hoseok is trying his best to not swoon.

“What are you having?” Hyunwoo asks suddenly, still holding Hoseok, palm still on his arm, and just as the shorter man is about to answer, Hyunwoo’s hand slides a little lower.

Lower.

Some more.

So low it rests plainly on Hoseok’s hip bone, his fingers curling in, securing a hold on Hoseok, and the black-haired man’s internal systems all decide to shut down simultaneously. He forgets the party, the mildly heated buzz in him, the music thumping in his brain.

He only focusses on the blaze Hyunwoo’s touch has left, a smarting pain that bites into his flesh, and he blanks out. He can still hear Hyunwoo’s voice in the background, calling for him, but the weight of his hand pulls him down, roots him to the ground.

“Hoseok?”

The black-haired man lifts his head to look at Hyunwoo, and is faced with his eyes filled with concern. Hoseok doesn’t know how to describe it, a burden, a container of _something_ buried deep within, something that keeps building up pressure in him.

He needs it out, the stress escaping in small puffs in the form of his strained exhales, but he still feels like he’s about to buckle from its force.

It meets the ball of fiery courage he’s managed to muster at the start of the party, part Changkyun, part the punch in his hand, and fully catches fire, a large smothering inferno that’s consuming him whole.

It burns, singeing, stinging, and Hoseok wants relief. Quick.

And neither of them see it coming as Hoseok tiptoes just barely, places his hand on Hyunwoo’s shoulder and leans up to kiss him.

It’s full and soft, the same way Hoseok had imagined it to be (because even though he’s terrified of the scenarios playing out in his head, it’s not really like he has a choice when they trespass into his consciousness and claim sovereignty).

It quenches his thirst by an inch, but it continues going off, destroying everything in its path, and Hoseok wants — _needs_ — more, so he does, the same way he keeps taking because Hyunwoo keeps giving.

Punch still in his left hand, Hoseok moves his right hand to cup Hyunwoo’s face, lets his lips swipe over Hyunwoo’s softly, cushions pressing against his own, his heart bursting. He can almost see the fireworks going off at the back of his head, yet it also feels like an oasis in the dead of a desert, putting out his fire. Comfort and passion fused into one — just the way he’d describe Hyunwoo’s presence in his life.

Hyunwoo slips his tongue between his lips, and Hoseok gasps at the suddenness, but he’s not going to reject his advances, not when he’s perhaps dreamt about this moment ever since he realised that what he harboured for Hyunwoo was more than what was appropriate for a friend.

And it feels… right. Like this has been long overdue, like it has happened more than once in reality instead of being bottled up in his mind, shaken and muddled up.

It feels specific, the texture of Hyunwoo’s tongue as Hoseok runs the tip of his own along Hyunwoo’s fleshy one, the scent of his skin, a minty freshness on his taste buds. All of the sensations are distinct, definite, not a vague idea of a perception, nor the idea or shadow of a feeling.

And Hoseok doesn’t know how to deal with it, only wants to savour it forever as Hyunwoo places the hand on his hip to the small of his back and drags him in and under. The shorter man doesn’t know how to breathe underwater, the lack of air making his head spin, dizzy and exhilarating.

He runs the pad of his thumb along Hyunwoo’s cheek, pressing in softly as he looks at it dent in, and he could just combust from everything that’s happening right now.

But of course he spills the punch onto Hyunwoo’s shoes, because he is Hoseok, after all, and the taller man’s eyes pry open in surprise, and Hoseok reacts. His brain recovers from everything, instills some logic into him, and he jumps away from the brunette, feeling safe only with some distance between.

His eyes are wide, like a deer caught in the headlights, and Hyunwoo is looking at him with the same worry written on his face, and Hoseok doesn’t know how to take it, his first instinct to flee.

So he does, doesn’t even remember to apologise for ruining Hyunwoo’s shoes and possibly his night, and scurries out, his tail between his legs, and Hyunwoo is left staring at his back.

Hoseok doesn’t know how much worse this night could go, but he still feels the warmth of Hyunwoo’s lips against his, and decides that the part that he hates isn’t the fact that he’s fucked up, but the fact that he’d choose to fuck up again if he was given the choice.

He spends the rest of the night with Stranger Things playing in the background, but of course he’s spending more time mulling over his decisions than actually watching the plot unfold.

He doesn’t cry, because it would make it seem as if Hoseok hated it, and Hyunwoo deserves better than his tears. Always better.

(But his lips are so soft, so Hoseok still kind of wants to cry at how amazing it felt against his own.)

*****

“You’ve been ignoring his texts for weeks now, hyung,” Jooheon states, and Hoseok is sprawled over the floor of their shared apartment, refusing to get up. “I would say it’s okay if that’s how you’re coping, but you’re obviously miserable.”

Hoseok sighs. “I miss him.”

Jooheon rolls his eyes, close to losing all of his patience with his hyung. “You’re stupid. Talk to him if you miss him, then.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn into large saucers as he sits back up. “Jooheon. I kissed him. I _kissed_ him. That’s… how am I supposed to face him now?”

The brown-haired younger man kneads his hands together and sits down next to him. “As far as I’m aware, he kissed you back.”

“That’s not important,” Hoseok wails, and Jooheon has had it up to here with his dramatic ass. “What do you mean ‘it’s not important’, it’s the _only thing_ that’s important. He likes you, hyung, you could actually _eventuate_ , the way you want it to.”

Hoseok claps his palms over his ears and shakes his head, attempting to shake Jooheon’s remarks from his head, and scrunches his face into a frown.

“Stop, please. I don’t want to be all hopeful only to be disappointed.”

“Anyone told you you’re pessimistic?”

Hoseok exhales tiredly. “Pessimistic is basically my middle name at this point.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Jooheon says, ignoring the fact that Hoseok is older than him by two years, because Hoseok is a fucking idiot, and someone needs to tell him that.

Just as Hoseok is about to come up with a rebuttal, the doorbell buzzes, and Jooheon glares at the older man still slouched on the floor. He stands back up and groans, striding to the door, feeling annoyance build up in him at Hoseok’s self-founded desolation and doesn’t even bother with looking through the peephole before throwing the main door open with unnecessary force.

He blinks once, twice, thrice before finding his voice, and it comes out in a stammer. “H-hoseok hyung?”

“What?” The black-haired man snaps, returning to curling into a ball on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest.

“You have a visitor,” Jooheon announces, and the older man is not in the mood to see anyone right now, so he just waves a nonchalant arm in his general direction.

“Hoseok?” The voice from the newcomer travels to the raven-haired man, whose whole body freezes, and he’s contemplating the twenty ways he can run, staring at the open window next to the sofa, even though they’re 8 stories high.

That seems like a pretty reasonable escape route, right?

Hearing no response from him, Hyunwoo continues as he presses the ends of his lips together, grimacing. “Don’t run, please? I just want to talk to you.”

Hoseok could never say no to the pleading tone in Hyunwoo’s voice, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he really _really_ missed Hyunwoo.

His instincts betray him, so he rolls over and exchanges looks with the brunette standing by the doorway, who still looks as good as he’s always looked, and Hoseok has given up on himself completely, still a ball on the floor, lips protruding into a small pout.

“Hi?”

Hyunwoo laughs, exasperation laced in his voice, and he shakes his head. “Why are you impossible?” he asks, more directed at himself than Hoseok. Jooheon stares at the both of them, and smiles. He _was_ right all along — they do look good together.

*****

“Well?” Hyunwoo asks, looking up from his coffee, and Hoseok’s shoulders sink.

“Well what?” he pretends, because it’s easier than saying that Hyunwoo’s lips taste like cherries and that he would love to kiss him again, and again, and oh, that he wants Hyunwoo to himself. Anything is easier than _that_.

“Why did you ignore me?”

Hoseok keeps his eyes on his drink. “Me? Since when? Did no such thing. Mm-mm. Nah. Nada. Didn’t happen.”

“Hoseok.”

The younger man doesn’t know what prompted him to finally look at Hyunwoo when he’s tried his best to divert his glance from Hyunwoo the whole walk to the cafe, but when he finally does, he sees a softness in his expression, a kind of indescribable warmth spreading through his whole system from just a look.

“Why?”

Hoseok gulps. “I… don’t know? I was scared.”

Hyunwoo sips on his Americano. “Scared? Of?”

He inhales. “I don’t know. That you’d find it gross?”

Hyunwoo makes a face. “Uh. I kissed you back?”

The younger man cringes, shaking his head. “That’s not the point.”

A frown. “How’s that not the point? That’s the whole point. I wouldn’t have kissed you back if I didn’t like it.”

Shrugging, Hoseok goes back to staring at his straw. “Maybe you felt bad for me?”

“Do you think I’m the kind of guy to give pity kisses?” Hyunwoo sounds mildly offended, even, and Hoseok chews on the insides of his cheeks.

“I don’t know? I just?” Like a deflating balloon, “I really don’t know.”

Hyunwoo breathes deeply, and sits back up straight in the chair. He swallows. “Shin Hoseok. Do you like me?”

He’s still staring at the top of Hoseok’s head, and the younger man didn’t really expect the question, so it’s only normal that he almost chokes on his beverage, flustered. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A straightforward one that should have a simple yes or no.”

Hoseok furrows his brows. He’s wrong — nothing is a simple yes or no with Hyunwoo. He’s always a flurry of confusion, always grey, always the little fuzzy feeling tickling his insides, the kind that Hoseok can never put a finger on.

“I don’t know?” (Of course he knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to say it, because if he does, it’ll finally be real, and he’ll be setting himself up for failure again.)

Hyunwoo doesn’t seem to appreciate the vagueness in his answer. The brunette leans over the table, half of his torso laying flat on the surface, and he reaches to hold Hoseok’s hands in his own. The younger man jumps, eyes darting up to stare at Hyunwoo, and he feels his hands shaking.

“What are you so scared of?” Hyunwoo’s voice is a whisper, the kind that makes an itch crawl along his spine, and he shudders.

“I don’t know,” he replies in hushed tones, and Hyunwoo rubs his thumb over his knuckles again, the way he always has whenever Hoseok worries, and his thoughts are a whirlpool in his mind.

“I’ll tell you, if you won’t answer me. I like you. A lot,” Hyunwoo says with the straightest face, no hint of humour in his look, no peep of a joke. Hoseok has never handled something like that, doesn’t know how to, feels Hyunwoo’s large hands wrapping over his, his insides turning to mush.

“What?” He trusts himself to not believe his ears, and the brunette chuckles. “I said, I like you, a lot. Does that change your answer now?”

Hoseok’s heart is full, overflowing even, with a trickle of mellowness, into his bloodstream, into the tips of his fingers, electrified from Hyunwoo’s touch.

Hoseok’s gaze is soft, and Hyunwoo looks so terribly eager to hear the words from his mouth, on the edge of his seat, waiting, anticipating, _wanting_ , and Hoseok’s never felt wanted before in his life, not this way, not in the way that makes his stomach turn, that makes his eyes burn, that makes him want to entangle their feet as they make out all day.

So he settles on a smile, and in a small voice on his exhale, “yeah.”

Hyunwoo breaks into a grin. “Yeah?”

Hoseok blinks, and the question gathers at the bottom of his resolution, blooming into a certainty he hadn’t seen coming.

“Yeah,” he says, and when Hyunwoo gets up from his seat to come over to his side, when Hyunwoo cups his face in his large hands, when Hyunwoo leans in for a kiss that makes all of him simultaneously burst into a dazzling display of light and colour and the calmness after the display, Hoseok knows it’s right.

In this moment, Hyunwoo is a torrent of radiance, and in this moment, Hoseok is golden.

**Author's Note:**

> i apologise if this is horrible; why did i find a need to write these many words for something so terribly plotless? i'm in one of my poetic moods again, so if this is crap and v different from my usual writing, just know that i have phases and this is one of those meh ones.  
> that showho selfie though?? everything i ever wanted. hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! for sevim, my favourite showho stan, and the person who is there whenever i need someone. 
> 
> twt: @kihyunghyuks
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated!


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